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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23611753">Shadow in a White Room</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostmedic/pseuds/Ghostmedic'>Ghostmedic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Depression, Dreamscapes, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:07:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,781</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23611753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostmedic/pseuds/Ghostmedic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A figurative tale of a torturous dreamscape and the battle against depression.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Shadow in a White Room</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>     I opened my door to my bedroom like I do every night, except this time something felt off. I paused in my doorway with my hand tightening on the suspiciously cold handle. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. My lights were off, but the faint glow of the evening sun could still be seen through my window. My bed sat unmade in the corner, and my dresser draws were closed. All my books in my shelf sat unmolested and yesterday’s clothes were laying on the naked floor. No one has been in here since I left this morning. Yet, something felt off. Terribly off. In fact, I was scared out of my mind. I stood absolutely still, waiting for something to pounce from the shadows. For several moments I just waited. I forced myself to exhale and then inhale. I closed my eyes. “You got this”, I said to myself, “there isn’t anything here”. While keeping my hand on the door, I took one step forward into my room. That’s right this was my room. This has been my room since… you know I’m not even sure how long it’s been since we’ve moved here. Was it 1st grade? Yea that’s right it was just before Valentine’s day. I left my teacher Mrs. Fall and all my friends to move to this dump of a town. Don’t know what my parents were thinking.</p><p><br/>     BANG. I jumped two feet into the air, banging my hand into the door. Somehow, I managed to not scream like a little girl. I instinctively grasped the door handle again like I was a drowning man, and it was the only thing keeping me alive. A steady stream of curses came from upstairs and I realized my mom must have dropped a pan in the kitchen. I’m an idiot; why am I so scared right now? I confidently let go of the now warm door handle and took another step into my room and a slight breeze passed by. My hair stood so straight that for one second, I resembled a human pin cushion. Then everything was normal again. My shoulders dropped and my hands relaxed. I was extremely tired. After taking off my clothes and banishing them into the corner. I tried to ignore the desire to run as fast as I could into the safety of my comforter. I mustered up some false confidence and I slowly turned on my fan and cracked my window. I lifted up my blanket and crawled into bed. Just when my head hit the pillow, I realized that I’d forgotten to brush my teeth. I struggled with the idea of getting up and walking down the hallway to my bathroom, but I didn’t want to put clothes on. Its fine, not brushing my teeth tonight, isn’t going to kill me. I closed my eyes and let sleep embrace me.</p><p><br/>     I jerked awake as the feeling of falling filled my senses. I laid my head back expecting to feel my pillow, but there was only empty space. I began to tumble uncontrollably. I tried to open my eyes only to learn that they were already open. I saw only black. The only thing that reminded me that I was alive was the deafening roar of the wind and the constant stinging sensation as it stabbed into my naked body. My eyes began to fill with tears. I tried to lean my body in a way to stop it from rotating, but every movement seemed to make it worse. My whole body felt sick and was threating to come apart at the seams. A familiar feeling in my stomach just got worst and worst. I threw up what used to be my mother’s green bean casserole, but I wasn’t done. I heaved and I spun, then I spun and I heaved. It felt like someone had reached inside me and was physically squeezing my stomach. Tighter and tighter they gripped and faster and faster I span. I just wanted this hell to end, I just wanted to die. Something inside me turned on and I knew that I was going to live. My breath was erratic and after every second it became harder to breath. My heart was pounding so fast and so hard, I could hear nothing else. I knew I had to calm down. I needed to calm down. The little voice inside me head pleaded with my body “this is not that bad” he lied. “we can get through this, but we need to relax”. For what seemed like an eternity I tried to regain control of my body. Eventually, I slowly began to slow down my spinning. Then it stopped. I was scared to move even a finger, for fear the spinning would start again. It was over, it was finally over, but I was still falling in the black.</p><p><br/>     I don’t know how long I fell, but somehow I managed to close my eyes and sleep. I awoke to a bright light and a cool sensation on my back. I yelled out a primal scream of triumph. I was laying on solid stone and there was light. Oh, sweet Jesus there was light. I was alive and out of that hellscape, but where was I? I looked around, I realized that I had traded one hell for another. There was no sky, there was no horizon, there was just white. I laid on the ground for what seemed like hours, trying to let myself slip out of existence. I was unsure if I was breathing, and I was unsure if I even had the ability to lift a finger. I was in a blissful state of dissociation.<br/>The ever-growing pressure weighing on my eyes brought me back to my painful existence. My body was sticky with my own vomit and I lifted my arms off of the cool ground and covered my eyes with my hands, but there was little to no relief. I needed to escape. I tried to stand up, but my skin wanted to stay. After peeling myself from the ground I began walking. I didn’t know which direction I was going, but anywhere was better than here. I focused on the sound of my sticky feet walking on the smooth white stone and I tried to dissociate myself again. I didn’t want to see anything, I didn’t want to hear anything, and I didn’t want to feel anything. Why was I here?<br/>My head became light with thought but was ever increasing in weight. My eyes were full of sand and my feet were unsteady. I knew that the end was near, but I keep walking. The world went black and for one glorious second, I was not aware of the world around me. I awoke to find myself back on the floor, only this time there was something to look at. I tried to focus my dying eyes, but they were of little assistance. I felt like there was something in front of me. I stood up and for the briefest of moments I felt hope. With every step I drew closer to hope. After several steps, the sound of my step changed. It was the sound of wood. I looked down at the white floor and gently caressed the floor with my feet and hands. It was an amazing feeling to finally experience something different. When I stood back up it suddenly wasn’t just white. In the corner of my eye I could see the faintest of outlines of what appeared to be furniture. As soon as I tried to look directly at it, the lines would disappear, and I would face the endless color. I think I was standing in my living room. I am still unsure of how I knew, but I knew. The sound of a chair being dragged on tile, filled my ears. My senses became as alert as they have ever been. I walked towards my kitchen and the voices of my family echoed on the walls. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but I knew it was them. I quickly stepped towards the sounds of their voices only to run face first into a wall. I screamed out with uncontrollable rage. I lowered myself to the floor and wrapped my arms around my legs like they were my long-lost lover. My nose ached and if I had tears to give, I would have released a waterfall. Why did it have to be worse? Wasn’t my suffering enough? Who is doing this to me? What is doing this to me?</p><p><br/>     I don’t know how long I laid there, but something within me told me to stand up. I let my hands do the seeing for me, and I felt the familiar texture of my living room walls. I walked towards the direction I thought the kitchen door should have been in. I blindly reached for the handle and I found it. My heart was bounding with anticipation. As I began turning the handle a familiar sensation overcame me. It was the exact same feeling I had when I entered my bedroom. I knew that whatever caused this to me was on the other side of that door. My rage continued to grow until it took over my body, like a raging fire. With all the strength I could muster forced the door open and I came upon a strange scene.</p><p><br/>    I was no longer angry; I was just confused. Sitting at the dinner table was my shadow. I didn’t need to second guess my self. I have seen my shadow every day since I was born, and I knew what it looked like. It seemed to be in a conversation with my parents. Their voices were just faint echoes as if they were talking at the bottom of the pool. My shadow looked at me and its shoulder tightened as if it was scared. In a state of bewilderment, I walked closer and closer. It just stared back at me, until I reached out to touch its face. It spoke in the voice that I only heard before inside my head.</p><p>     It calmly said, “where have you been”? It pushed its chair back and stood up.</p><p>     My outstretched hand flinched back towards my side. I had no answer to its question, and we continued to stare at each other. I broke the silence by speaking without thought “it doesn’t matter where I was, but I am here now”. As if he was my reflection, we embraced each other. That’s when I knew that everything was going to be ok. I was going to ok.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this. I wrote something very similar to this story in 6th grade, except that version had a shadow chasing me with a knife. Recently I decided to get back into creative writing and this was one of the first things I wrote. Somehow it turned more into a battle against depression than some unrelenting shadowy figure.  I hope to bring a lot more content. There will most likely be a stand alone and I don't plan on writing similar works.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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